The Storm
she sits and waits on the hill
she feels the breeze begin to pick up
The clouds begin to churn
The sun begins to fade
she lifts her face toward the sky and closes her eyes
she is alone and wonders why
she watches the animals run into the brush
There is no movement from her...waiting
The clouds darken; the rumbling begins
The crack of the faraway lightening
The first drops of rain touch her face and open bosom
Shuddering with the assault she becomes still
she knows it is what she wants
The rain pours on her drenching her every curve... every part of her skin
Laving back and watching the clouds strengthen
The lightening hitting the ground; the surge it puts through her body
The tingling through her sweetness, her bosom
The rain beating on her in rhythm
She cries out knowing she wants more
Knowing The Storm is her Master; and she merely wanting to be the rain
